By Lori Welch Brown
My husband had a birthday last month. He loves a good celebration—especially if it involves cake. For every year I’ve known him, it’s been strawberry shortcake which he starts talking about in May. “You’re gonna make me strawberry shortcake, right? You know it’s my favorite, right?”
Yes, dear. How could I forget with all these subtle hints, I think to myself.
This year he threw me for a loop with a request for banana cake. What the h-e-double-toothpicks. A ‘well-meaning’ friend brought one to a pot luck a few months back and it was love at first bite. Thanks, friend. Not being a ‘baker’ per se, I was not thrilled by his new request, but I accepted the challenge because I try to be a good wife, and my husband deserved a good birthday.
While XXL loves a good celebration, remember, especially when cake is involved (even better with ice cream—he’ll be the first to notice its absence), he’s not so keen on aging. He pretty much hates everything about it. I assure him that none of us is super excited by creaking joints or crepey skin, but as they say, it beats the alternative. I remind him that he’s already lived three more years than my brother Phil, 17 more than my friend Holly, and a lot more than my friend Betty. I don’t mention those sweet little campers who won’t see their ninth birthdays.
To be alive, is a gift. To be alive and healthy is a treasure.
XXL is one of those manly-men types. He spent most of his career doing manual labor, has captained many vessels, and has a 100-ton master’s license—a fact he’s recited to everyone from Uber drivers to Safeway cashiers. He’s proud of it, and rightfully so. There’s no one I feel more comfortable in bad weather conditions than Captain XXL. He skis double-black diamonds, and plays the drums like nobody’s business. He does not want to lose the ability to do any of these things. God forbid I mention anything about his hearing or vision (does he really think that dish is clean?).
I get it.
From the moment we pop out of the womb, unless we are plucked off early, we are riding the great conveyor belt to the sky. Of course, there will be substantial wear and tear on the body. XXL has had his knee and shoulder worked on and is getting ready to undergo back surgery to clean up a ruptured disk. I’ve got titanium hips. And aren’t we lucky that the technology and expertise exists to alleviate our pain and give us more years upright and mobile.
But aging isn’t for the faint of heart. That is for sure. Personally speaking, I try to stay positive about the things I can do vs. the things I can’t. At least I still have the vision to see the chin hairs, and I just recently cracked the code for getting up off the floor without using my hands. Go, me!
I try to get XXL to focus on the positives. Personally speaking, I’m thrilled by the money I’m saving not having to stock my bathroom with Playtex products. If I was smart, I’d put $15 a month into a Depends account. Betting a leaky-day fund will come in just as handy as a rainy-day fund. I’m no longer expected to go clubbing; do shots of sugary made-up concoctions that I’ll wake up regretting; pay crazy cover charges in order to have a hot ash dropped on my new Nine Wests; remember the number to Red Top Cab (which BTW, I still do—I can’t remember what I had for lunch, but for some reason 703-333-3333 is in for the long haul); or stay up past 10:00 pm.
Random strangers hold doors open for me. I don’t have to wear a name tag or punch a time clock or make water cooler chit chat with people who generally annoy me. Thanks to AARP, I get discounts, solid advice on avoiding scammers, and expert articles about the difference between a USB and a CVS. I don’t have to pretend the vaping is cool or that man buns are sexy. Praise God, the Buddha, and the Goddess of whatever. I’m just thrilled.
Like anything worth having, it takes work to keep these aging bodies and minds healthy and strong. You’ve got to keep moving and lifting. Lifting weight. Lifting groceries. Lifting spirits. Lifting the No. 2 to do a puzzle. You’ve got to keep on moving on. You’ve got to find things that challenge you mentally and physically. You’ve got to be flexible—both physically and mentally. You’ve got to not only accept change, but embrace it. We are changing every day. Like the weather, it’s a fact of life.
I’m about to turn 59 in September. My last year in my fifties. Wow. That is a bit terrifying, but at the end of the day, I’m blessed beyond measure to be here. I figure if you can show up, and eat the cake, life is pretty sweet. Now I have to concentrate on what cake challenge I’m going to toss to XXL. German chocolate? Espresso mocha? And while I’m at it, I may just think of a challenge for myself to keep me moving and strong. Sixty 6-mile walks? Sixty hikes? Sixty puzzles completed? Sixty articles published? Sixty push-ups? Hmmm. A lot to consider. In the meantime, maybe I’ll just have some cake.
About the Author: Lori is a local writer, painter and pet lover who loves to share her experiences and expertise with our readers. She has been penning a column for the OTC for over 20 years. Please follow Lori online on Medium for more missives like this.